Moments Between Time
by SquirrelWho
Summary: A series of one-shots detailing times between Sherlock and Rose running into each other. They are written from different character's perspectives. Part 2 in my Moments In Time series. Roselock.
1. A Woman

Part 2 in my Moments in Time series. There will more parts. I've just settled on posting this one next.

This takes place between Graffiti and Trains.

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John followed Sherlock into their flat. He hung his coat up and then walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on. After the night he had, well, he and Sarah, being kidnapped by a smuggling gang, her almost getting killed, he really doubted she would call him again. He could ring her, but he knew that wasn't a good idea.

He walked back into the living room and flopped down in his chair with a sigh that drew his friend's gaze.

"Something wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"Am I ever going to have a normal date?" John snapped, not that it was Sherlock's fault, but really, all he wanted to do was take Sarah out.

He should've known his friend was up to something offering free tickets.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. John put too much stock in the normal and mundane.

"Dating's boring."

"Actually, it's really not. It's difficult enough without throwing in being kidnapped and almost killed."

"You know you enjoy it," Sherlock replied, sitting forward. "The thrill of the chase. Blood pumping through your system."

It was true. John couldn't deny it, but…

"Not when I'm on a date I don't," he snapped. Sherlock rolled his eyes and flopped back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. "No one would, well, not one outside of you."

For a reason Sherlock could neither explain nor understand his mind drew up an image of a woman. Blonde hair, black jacket, blue shirt, black trousers, and trainers.

_"__Could be dangerous," he called._

_She smiled and it was what that smile spoke of that brought one to his own lips. The thrill of the chase. Blood pumping through her system. Someone who could handle herself, someone who wasn't afraid to step into danger._

_"__Wouldn't that be something," she replied._

John noticed the smile Sherlock sported. His brows drew together in annoyance. Of course his friend would find humor in running off yet another date. He rolled his eyes, picking up the paper even though he already read it this morning.

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Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**


	2. Blokes And Trains

Rose made it nearly out of the train yard before she noticed Mickey. The realization that he managed to stay hidden from her brought out a smile. _Mickey the idiot_ was no more. The Doctor would have to think up a new nickname.

"What're you doing out here?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, glancing back, but the bloke she'd been talking to was out of sight. "Who was that?"

She shrugged.

"Just some bloke."

He rolled his eyes because he knew better. He saw the way she was smiling, a bit like she smiled at Jack, not like she smiled at the Doctor of course, she never smiled at anyone like that.

"Don't give me that. I know you, remember?"

"I've only seen him a couple times, Micks. I don't even know his name," she snapped, irritated at his implication.

"Hey," Mickey said, holding his hands up in surrender, "I wasn't saying anything bad. I mean, it'd be nice if you-"

She rounded on them then because she knew what he was about to say. It's what everyone was saying, not in front of her mind, but behind her back. That she should just give up. That thinking she could break through the walls of the universe was a hopeless cause. And then there were the ones who thought she was mental, thought she was risking both universes and she ought to be, not only tossed out of Torchwood, but locked up for her own good. Those whispers were few and far between because they didn't want the Director of Torchwood to overhear, but she heard them just the same.

"What? Fell in love with someone else and just gave up?" she growled. "Do you really think I'd do that? Do you really think I'd just forget about him? I can't! I won't!"

"Hey, hey," he said, pulling her into a hug because he knew she wasn't upset with him.

She was upset over their failed attempt, what must have been their fiftieth failed attempt. That coupled with the handful of tossers back at Torchwood was starting to get to her. She pretended that it didn't. Tried to be strong, even started using that godforsaken phrase the Doctor used. _I'm fine_. Not that he faulted the Doctor. It wasn't his fault they were separated and he knew the Doctor was likely hurting as much as she was.

The mask she wore broke then and he held her. There was a time when he would've told her she was better off without the Doctor, but he wasn't that Mickey Smith anymore. He knew this was what she needed. To get out her frustrations and then they could return, she'd take another look at her design and go from there.

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Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**

**There's a video up for this series on youtube called Moments in Time if you're interested. **


	3. Trains and Blondes

I know this one's really short, but I will be posting another in a bit. :)

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Mrs. Hudson and John were both asleep, but Sherlock found himself sitting in his chair in the near dark of the living room, contemplating. It was _her_. The blonde, his mind was drawn to. Not all the time, of course, he was too schooled to allow an invasion of that sort, but in the quiet, in the in-between times after finishing a case and before starting another his mind was drawn to thoughts of her.

She unsettled him. No one understood his motivation, but she had, without an explanation, picking up on it as if it were second nature. She knew why he was watching John back in the train yard. She hadn't questioned him about digging through that skip or investigating the graffiti. He wasn't sure if he liked that.

Their meetings didn't appear to be staged, but if there's one thing he knew about coincidence, it was that the universe was rarely so lazy. Only, he couldn't work out what may be behind it.

Perhaps he should stage his own run-in with her. Throw her off her game, if it was indeed some game. In the least it would give him the upper hand. He preferred to be in control and so far she was always the one approaching him.

She was a mystery his mind was becoming too occupied with. Once he learned the answers, solved the mystery he could leave thoughts of her behind.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	4. The Confusion Deepens

Between Confusion and Flats from Moments in Time.

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John sat in his chair, distracting himself with the paper he already read that morning. It was late and he had surgery in the morning, but he was waiting for Sherlock who began spending more time on his own of late, walking instead of taking cabs back to their flat.

He feared it had to do with Irene's death. When Mycroft suggested that Sherlock cared for The Woman John hadn't believed it, but the detective's reaction, wanting her phone, that's what made him start to reconsider. Perhaps Sherlock's claim to not care was a way of protecting himself. It made sense.

John heard his friend come up the stairs so he was prepared when the door opened, only the confused look Sherlock wore gave him pause. His friend's eyes fell on him and the confusion turned into a scowl before the detective shrugged out of the long coat and hung it up.

"Did you take the long way?" he asked after glancing at his watch, not that he had to. They left the murder scene over two hours ago after Sherlock solved it. John taking a cab and his friend choosing to walk…again.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Don't you have surgery in the morning?" the detective asked, heading into the kitchen, but John was having none of that.

He sat the paper down and stood up to follow. Sherlock was being evasive, which didn't sit well with him. He had to make sure his friend's little outings didn't involve slipping into old habits Mycroft constantly worried over.

"Did you take a detour?" he continued, ignoring Sherlock's question because they both knew the answer.

Sherlock turned to John, realizing his friend's implications, though he couldn't understand why John would think he was out looking for chemicals.

"I'm clean. If that's what you're concerned over."

"Are you?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied, drawing his brows together in confusion. "I've no reason not to be." John continued to stare at him in disbelief, irritating him. "What?"

"Irene," the doctor finally admitted. The detective rolled his eyes again. John sighed. He didn't want to fight with Sherlock. "Look, Sherlock, it's perfectly normal to feel," the detective scoffed at the word.

"_Feel_," he snapped, as if there was something horrid about the word. "Sentiment isn't my-"

"Area," John interrupted. "Yeah, you've said that, but I remember how you were when you thought she died and now-"

"This has nothing to do with _her_."

John, of course, didn't know The Woman was still alive. Didn't know Sherlock saved her from the assassination. Didn't know she retreated to America where there would be little likelihood she would be discovered, well, as long as she didn't return to her old patterns.

"Really?" John asked, quirking his brow in disbelief. "Then what does it have to do with?"

Sherlock stared at his friend a moment. He didn't want to reveal _her_ existence to John or anyone for that matter, not until he sorted out who she was and what sort of device she was working on. It wasn't that he wanted to keep her a secret, keep her to himself, because, of course, that wasn't his motivation. That would be sentimental and he didn't do sentiment. No, it would be less complicated and, really, it was for John's own good not to know about her. Yes, that was why.

"Good night, John," he replied then turned on his heels and walked back to his room, closing the door behind.

John stood there a moment, staring at the closed door. Was there really another reason? It was possible, hell, with Sherlock pretty much anything was possible, but if there was another reason why would his friend keep it to himself?

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**


	5. Girlfriend

John was on his way out the door of 221B when his phone rang. He pulled it out with an audible sigh. He'd like to get through one date, from beginning to end, without an interruption from his flatmate. He glanced at the caller ID, his brows drawing together in confusion as Greg's name appeared.

"Greg?" he asked, putting phone to ear.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Lestrade replied.

John's confusion deepened. Her? Her who?

"I'm sorry?"

"I've already met her so there's no sense acting as if you don't know."

"Actually, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"Rose."

John thought, but he couldn't recall a Rose. Celia was waiting at the restaurant. Had he dated a Rose? No, he was fairly sure he hadn't.

"I'm not sure who you mean."

"Blonde hair, around your height, beautiful smile."

Blonde hair? Beautiful smile? Why was Greg calling him about some blonde woman? Maybe it was for a case. Sherlock left after receiving a call from Lestrade.

"Um…no, still not following. Has she done something?"

"I'll say. I don't think I've ever seen Sherlock smile like that."

Wait. Smile? Sherlock? Not that he didn't smile, but at a woman? If he didn't know Irene was dead he might've assumed the woman was her, but blonde hair…that didn't fit. Plus, he was fairly sure Lestrade knew what Irene looked like.

"I'm sorry…what? Did you say he smiled…at a woman?"

"That was after she flung herself into his arms."

John's mind ground to a halt. Some woman flung herself into Sherlock's arms and the detective smiled at her? That sentence didn't make any sense. He tried to imagine it, but there were so many things wrong with that image he couldn't conjure it up.

"Wait…what?" he exclaimed.

Lestrade paused and John could almost hear the Inspector realizing he had no idea what the man was talking about.

"I assumed you knew," Greg replied, as if there was something to know.

"You assumed I knew what?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Isn't what obvious?"

"Sherlock has a girlfriend." And there went the rest of John's mind, grinding to a halt. Girlfriend? Sherlock? What? "Sorry, I have to run."

The line went dead. John pulled the phone back and just stared at it. Girlfriend? Did Sherlock actually have a girlfriend? And if he did why would he keep her a secret? Oh, they were definitely having a talk when he got back.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**

Also, in case you don't know, I have a tumblr under Squirrelwho.


	6. Teasing Flatmates

I'll have some more chapters up later. I'm hoping to get this part finished this weekend. :)

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Sherlock was still thinking about Rose and their exchange at the chippy when he stepped through the door of 221B. He knew her first name and where she lived so a quick jaunt on the internet accessing the rental files would turn up her full name, her flat number, and a bit more information.

He expected John to be out, still on that date with…Sarah? No, that was the first one…oh, well, it's not like they stayed around for very long. Noise from the kitchen drew his attention as he removed his coat and scarf. Mrs. Hudson must be cleaning, at least, that's what he thought until he turned around and was greeted by his friend's smiling face.

"Tea?" John asked, holding out a cuppa.

Sherlock eyed it warily. His friend was far too happy. He sighed, inwardly, taking the offered cup and hoping he wasn't about to sit through some retelling of John's date and how well it went.

He stepped around his friend, as he crossed the room to his desk, sitting down in front of his laptop to begin that search.

"So, were you going to tell me about her?" his friend asked.

"Her?" he inquired, opening the laptop.

He heard John step over next to him.

"Your girlfriend."

Sherlock's mental process screeched to a halt at the absurd statement. He glanced at John.

"I'm sorry…what?"

"Lestrade phoned," his friend revealed as if that should sort things.

Sherlock merely blinked, trying to put the puzzle pieces together that would tell him why Lestrade phoning would give John the impression…He rolled his eyes at the picture that formed.

"Rose is not my girlfriend," he replied, disdainfully, turning back to the laptop. "I don't have _girlfriends_."

"Rose," John said, leaning on the desk. "That's a lovely name."

Sherlock shot him a sideways glance.

"Women are a distraction. You would do well to remember that."

"Right." John paused, watching Sherlock's hands fly across the keyboard. "And you can't allow yourself to be distracted, now can you?"

"Precisely," the detective replied.

"So, what're you doing then?"

"Searching the rental records of the building where she lives."

"Why?"

"So I can discover her last name."

"You don't know her last name?"

"I…" he didn't want to admit that she distracted him from asking. She was very good at distracting him, which made her dangerous. "No."

"Why didn't you ask her?"

He rolled his eyes.

"This is easier."

It was lie. John could see that and it made him wonder.

"When did you meet her?"

"A study in pink," he replied as the rental records appeared on the screen.

John just stared at Sherlock. The detective had known her as long as they'd known each other, but he never met Rose. Sherlock hadn't even mentioned her, well, that wasn't exactly strange for the detective, but how could Sherlock have known her that long and not even know her last name. He was meticulous, hell, the man had known nearly John's entire back story at their first meeting. Then it hit him and he grinned.

"So…Rose…" John replied. Sherlock heard the teasing tone in his friend's voice, but he ignored it as he gazed over the names looking for Rose. "Are you going to invite her over? I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would like to meet her too. We could do dinner."

Sherlock paused. He glanced at John, took in the man's teasing smile. He wasn't going to get any work done around his friend so he stood, snapped his laptop shut and headed for his room.

John couldn't help grinning at his retreating friend, even after Sherlock's bedroom door slammed shut.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**


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